


i ate your soup (be my fucking boyfriend)

by jrxyl



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: ??? i think that’s it???, Cuddling, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Sick Fic, oH this is a random tumblr prompt btw aksjkadh, oh geez uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 10:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrxyl/pseuds/jrxyl
Summary: “In my defense, I have a very bad resting bitch face and look like a corpse right now. I really can’t go to the doctor, they’d take one look at me and call the cops.”





	i ate your soup (be my fucking boyfriend)

**Author's Note:**

> okey so if you couldn’t tell this is Old so i really don’t know what happens? all i know is that there’s one part in the middle that seems like it might get more like,,mature? i guess? but it Doesn’t i Promise it stays soft akdjadh but other than that i hope y’all enjoy!!

“So, let me get this straight,” Jisung said, gently pushing Minho until he’s seated on the couch. “You haven’t slept in two days-“

“Three,” Minho interjected. Jisung stared at him, mouth open.

“Fuck’s sake. Three, you haven’t slept in three days, haven’t had a decent meal in, what, a week?” Minho nodded, feeling slightly guilty. “ _And_ you have a 102° fever, but you didn’t go to the hospital?”

“In my defense, I have very bad resting bitch face and look like a corpse right now. I really can’t go to the doctor, they’d take one look at me and call the cops.”

“Or the coroner.”

Despite the situation, Minho laughed; tossing his head back and immediately flinching.

“Idiot!” Jisung hissed, moving forward to get a closer look at his face. “Don’t move, you’re on the brink of death!”

“First of all, you’re being dramatic. Second of all- _ow!_ Don’t hit me, I’m dying! Second of all, what happened to respecting your elders?”

“You lost that privilege the second you showed up at my door at 2am virtually dead,” Despite his words and harsh tone, Jisung looked terribly worried; Minho felt guilty.

“Why did you come to me, anyway? Why not Chan, or Woojin? Woojin has good mom properties. Woojin has his life together,” Jisung winced. “Okay, that’s a stretch. But, he’s got it more together than I do. I don’t even know how much pasta is an acceptable amount. I just ate an entire box. An entire box, Minho! Woojin wouldn’t do that! Woojin understands serving sizes!”

“Please stop yelling,” Minho said quietly. “If it helps, I also don’t understand serving sizes.”

“Sorry,” Jisung ran a hand through Minho’s hair, grimacing at how hot his forehead was. “And, that doesn’t help. Your opinion isn’t very valid when you’re on the verge of death.”

“Harsh,” Minho closed his eyes, silently pulling Jisung’s hand back to his hair; humming when Jisung began to play with it. “Why can’t you be a normal boyfriend and just take care of me?”

Jisung’s hand stilled. “...What did you just call me?”

Minho blinked his eyes open. “My...boyfriend?”

“I’m- I-“ Jisung gaped at him for a few moments before regaining his composure. “I’m not your boyfriend, Minho.”

“Wait, really?” Jisung nodded. “Oh, fuck. Why not?”

“Is your fever really that high? Are you already delusional?”

“I could’ve sworn we were dating.”

“Well, we’re not,” Jisung looked uneasy.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep!” Jisung said cheerfully. “Just feel like I’m having a fucking asthma attack, thanks for asking,” He sighed when Minho glanced at him worriedly. “You’re about to die, don’t get all concerned about me.”

“Do you have asthma?” Jisung’s hand resumed playing with his hair.

“No, just anxiety. Which, feels like the same thing right now.”

“I don’t have an inhaler,” Minho said, looking much too sad for his current situation.

Jisung laughed. “That’s okay, Minho. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not okay! You’re not my boyfriend,” Jisung choked on air, but Minho didn’t pause. “I don’t have an inhaler, and I feel gross. This sucks.”

“Why are you so fixated on being my boyfriend,” Jisung muttered, mostly to himself.

“Is that a serious question?” Before Jisung could assure him that it, in fact, was not, he continued. “First of all, you’re fucking adorable, like holy shit. Second, you’re also super sweet? Like, I woke you up 2am, basically dying, and you didn’t even scold me that much! I sent you into an asthma attack and you’re not mad! Third- fourth? Some number, whatever. You’re just...I don’t know. I like being around you, a lot.”

“Oh,” Jisung said quietly.

“I forgot to mention that you have really cute cheeks.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before. Thanks, though?” Jisung squinted. “I- still don’t know if I should take you seriously or not. That might be the fever talking.”

“It’s not,” Minho insisted, scowling when Jisung didn’t believe him. “Here, I can prove it!”

“How?”

“I’ll...I’ll call Chan! He listens to me rant about you when I’m not dying,” He stood up, wobbling slightly, and grabbed his phone, dialing Chan’s number.

“ _No!_ ” Jisung yelled, trying to snatch the phone out of Minho’s hand; glaring when Minho held it above his head. “Minho, it’s 2am, _please_ don’t call Chan.”

But, no sooner had Jisung said that did Chan’s voice filter into the living room.

“Hello?” He sounded groggy.

“Hey, I need a favor!” Minho furrowed his brows. “Wait, why is he so quiet?”

“You need to put it on speaker if you’re gonna hold it up there,” Jisung said, sounding defeated.

Minho did so, smiling triumphantly. “Chan! I need a favor!”

“What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Minho said, right as Jisung answered, “No.”

“He has a really high fever and won’t stop talking about me being his boyfriend,” Jisung explained.

“That...sounds normal for him? Not the fever part, though. Has he taken medicine?”

Jisung almost choked again, choosing to ignore the smug smile Minho was giving him. “No, he probably hasn’t. Look, I’m sorry for waking you up. He just wanted to convince me that-“

“That I talk about him being my boyfriend even when I’m not dying,” Minho finished.

“Oh, well, he does. It’s disgustingly cute, honestly,” All three were silent for a second before Chan spoke again, “If that’s solved, can I go back to bed?”

“Yes, goodnight,” Jisung mumbled before motioning for Minho to hang up. “Okay, I guess you win.”

“So, does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?”

Deciding he might as well use this situation to his advantage, Jisung says, “If you take medicine and eat some soup.”

Minho squinted. “There’s no soup.”

Jisung made his way to the kitchen. “I’ll make some,” He whipped around, pointing at Minho. “ _Don’t_ follow me. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Minho, surprisingly, obeyed. And an hour later, he found himself contently dozing off in Jisung’s bed; fever medicine in his system and two empty soup bowls on the nightstand.

Jisung got up to leave, somewhat exhausted, but Minho’s hand shot out to grab his wrist. They both ignored the small yelp he let out.

“Where are you going?” Minho mumbled, not opening his eyes.

“To sleep?”

“The bed’s in here.”

“I was gonna sleep on the couch.”

Minho scrunched his nose. “Why? It’ll make your back hurt, and you love cuddling,” As if sensing that Jisung was about to argue, Minho continued. “And, I’m cold.”

Resolve already weak, Jisung nodded, climbing into bed and keeping a respectful distance between them, back turned to Minho.

Minho, however, refused to accept that shit excuse for cuddling, and looped an arm around Jisung’s waist; tugging him closer. Soon enough, Jisung was practically trapped in all four of Minho’s limbs, almost uncomfortably warm.

But, as Minho sleepily told him to sleep well, Jisung decided he didn’t care.

He also didn’t care about the fact that he never dealt with the whole boyfriend thing.

Scooting closer to Minho and closing his eyes, Jisung figured that could wait until tomorrow.

-

When Jisung woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was how hot his bedroom was. He briefly wondered if he had turned the heat on, but the feeling of an arm tightening around his waist distracted him. He turned around and was greeted with the sight of Minho.

“Holy shit,” He said before he could stop himself. “You look like garbage.”

“A+ bedside manner,” Minho said, eyes still closed. “I _feel_ like garbage.”

Brushing away Minho’s sweaty bangs, Jisung hummed. “Sorry. I think your fever broke.”

“Is that why it’s so hot in here?”

“Maybe. That might also be because we’re cuddling,” Jisung tried to shift away, but Minho made a noise of protest; scooting closer. “Dude, you’ll feel less warm if you have some space.”

“Don’t call me ‘dude.’ And, I feel fine. I don’t need space,” He buried his face in Jisung’s neck.

“You just said you felt like trash,” Jisung winced as he felt how warm Minho was, but didn’t push him away. “You should take more medicine.”

“I don’t wanna get up.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“Are you that eager to get away from me?”

“And not have your sweaty ass face pressed against my neck? Yes.” No sooner had he finished speaking did Minho remove his arms from his waist, lightly shoving him off the bed. Jisung laughed, turning around to stick his tongue out as he made his way to the kitchen to grab medicine and water.

Once Minho had taken his medicine, he asked, “So, how did I get here?”

“You don’t remember anything from last night?”

“I remember some of it, but not much.”

Jisung deflated a bit. Truthfully, he was ecstatic when he found out Minho wanted to be his boyfriend. But, maybe it _was_ just the fever talking; maybe Chan was wrong.

“You showed up at 2am looking like death,” He finally said. “I made sure you took some medicine and ate something, then forced you to spend the night.”

“Oh,” Minho nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, just take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“...That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

Minho grinned. “Most likely.”

Jisung laughed, shaking his head and shoving Minho’s shoulder. “So, what _do_ you remember from last night?”

“I remember calling Chan, but not really what we said, and I remember eating soup,” He paused, watching Jisung frown and look down. “And, I remember we made a deal.”

Jisung looked up, tilting his head. “A deal?”

“Yeah. You said if I ate your soup, you would be my boyfriend,” When Jisung just gaped at him, he continued, “I ate your soup. Be my fucking boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Jisung said, barely recovering from his shock. “I, uh- I didn’t think you were serious.”

Minho glared at him. “Do I need to call Chan again?” He reached for his phone.

Jisung grabbed his wrist, shaking his head. “For the love of god, _no_. He sleeps, like, twice a week, don’t wake him up _again_.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

“I never said that.”

“You _just_ said you didn’t think I was serious last night.”

“Okay, true,” Jisung frowned. “But, to be 100% clear,” Minho rolled his eyes. “You’re not joking?”

Minho’s gaze softened, grabbing the hand holding his wrist and intertwining their fingers. “Why would I joke about that?”

Jisung shrugged, not making eye contact. “I dunno. You’ve never mentioned anything like that before.”

“I’ve tried to kiss you a solid fifteen times,” Minho deadpanned. “And, that’s just in the past week.”

“Friends do that all the time!”

“We call each other stupid pet names.”

“Again, friends do that.”

“We have matching couple bracelets,” Minho held up his arm, shaking his wrist to prove his point.

“So do Felix and Changbin.”

“They’re _dating_!”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Jisung glared at Minho as he laughed. Covering his face, he said, “Leave me alone, I’m embarrassed and gay.”

“You’re always like that.”

Through his hands, Jisung said, “No, I’m not always embarrassed.”

Minho laughed harder, reaching forward and trying to tug Jisung’s hands away. “Just be my boyfriend already.”

Jisung let Minho uncover his face and looked away, biting his lips to keep a wide grin from spreading over his face. “Okay.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Minho said, leaning forward. He frowned when Jisung scooted away. “ _Why?_ ” He practically whined.

“Okay, that was sorta out of habit,” Jisung grinned sheepishly. “But, you’re also sick.”

“I am _not_.”

“Oh? You’re not?” Minho shook his head. “Let me take your temperature, then.”

“Wait-“ Minho protested. But, Jisung had already climbed off the bed and had begun to drag him to the bathroom.

They stared at each other in silence as they waited for the thermometer to beep. Once it did, Jisung took a look at it and smiled triumphantly.

“100°,” He said, moving to wipe it down with rubbing alcohol.

“That’s not even that much of a fever,” Minho pouted.

“But, it’s still a fever,” Jisung stuck his tongue out, grabbing Minho’s hand once the thermometer was put away. “C’mon, let’s lay back down,” He rolled his eyes when Minho stayed put.

“I’m not leaving until you kiss me.”

“Suit yourself,” Jisung said, dropping Minho’s hand and walking back to bed. He was halfway under the covers when Minho surfaced from the bathroom.

“You’re cruel,” Minho said, climbing in next to Jisung.

“I just don’t wanna get sick.”

“‘ _I just don’t wanna get sick_ ,’” Minho mocked, rolling his eyes, but still laying his head on Jisung’s chest.

Jisung flicked him in the forehead. “I’ll kiss you when your fever’s gone. Now, can we nap? Because _somebody_ ,” He pointedly glanced down at Minho. “Woke me up at 2am, and I’m tired.”

“I’d say sorry, but I’m sorta not.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Honest enough for you to kiss me?” He looked up at Jisung.

“Nope, you still have a fever,” Jisung gently poked his nose.

Minho huffed, but settled back on Jisung’s chest and closed his eyes.

“Y’know,” Jisung said, shifting a bit. “I don’t really like being the big spoon.”

“We’re not spooning,” Minho replied, laughing when Jisung shoved his shoulder.

“You know what I mean.”

Minho didn’t respond, instead rolling off of Jisung’s chest and onto his side, waiting for Jisung to move.

Jisung readjusted, facing away from Minho, and wiggled a bit when he didn’t do anything.

Minho took the hint and moved forward, resuming their position from the night before and wrapping his arm around Jisung’s waist, pressing a small kiss to Jisung’s hair. He smiled when Jisung grabbed the hand around his waist and laced their fingers together.

-

Jisung was woken up by a faint beep and the feeling of Minho settling back into bed.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, words slightly slurring together.

“Just peachy,” Minho replied, sounding anything but.

Jisung turned around, sitting up and blinking sleepily at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I took my temperature again, but it’s 99°,” Minho leaned back to press his back against the wall.

“Is that still a fever?”

“Yea-“ Realizing his opportunity, Minho backtracked. “No, not at all.”

“Yes, it is,” Jisung said, laughing lightly.

“It’s really not,” Minho insisted. “If you don’t believe me, look it up.”

“Okay,” Jisung reached for his phone and Minho grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, don’t,” Jisung raised an eyebrow, Minho continued, “Why don’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you,” Jisung said, running a hand through Minho’s hair. “But, I also know when you’re lying.”

“This sucks,” Minho whined. “We’ve been dating for, like, six hours and you still haven’t kissed me.”

“Oh, a whole six hours,” Jisung said in mock sympathy. “How have you survived?”

“I am a strong man,” Minho deadpanned.

“Last week a butterfly landed on you and you started crying.”

“Even the strongest men have their limits.”

“It was a butterfly.”

“What if,” Minho started, ignoring the look he received from Jisung. “We make a bet?”

“About?”

“Whether I can kiss you or not. If I get you to kiss me before my fever goes down, I win. If I don’t, you win.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“Satisfaction?” Minho offered.

Jisung frowned. “That’s it?”

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

“It’s, like, noon-“

“Time isn’t real.”

“ _And_ , you can’t cook,” He patted Minho’s head when Minho scowled. “But, deal. What do you get if you win?”

“Kissing you is already a gift.”

Jisung shoved his shoulder. “You’re so _cheesy_ , oh my god,” He laughed when Minho winked. “But, okay. You’re on.”

Minho grinned and leaned closer, smile not falling when Jisung pulled away.

“That’s all you got?”

Minho smiled wider, shaking his head. He watched Jisung for another moment, only moving when he shifted awkwardly. He leaned forward once again, gently grabbing Jisung’s hands and looping them around his neck, settling his own on Jisung’s hips and moving to sit on top of Jisung’s thighs.

Jisung looked at him with wide eyes, breath stuttering. “What- what are you-“ He tried to get his words out, but cut himself off when Minho moved so their noses were touching.

“You’re really cute,” Minho said, voice low.

“Yeah?” Jisung asked, mouth slightly open.

“Mhm,” Minho hummed. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” He managed to keep a straight face for less than five seconds before he dropped his head onto Jisung’s shoulder. “That was so greasy, oh my _god_ , I wanna _die_.”

Jisung laughed along with him, but when Minho met his gaze again and the grip on his waist tightened, he short circuited. “Same, but-” His eyes flicked down to Minho’s lips and he barely managed to get out, “-Yeah. I’m yours.”

“Am I yours?” Minho asked, beginning to rub circles on Jisung’s hip.

“If you want to be,” Jisung said breathlessly.

“Of course I do,” He rested his forehead against Jisung’s, laughing lightly when he felt the arms around his neck tighten and pull him closer. “Can I kiss you, baby?”

Jisung closed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“The pet names.”

“You don’t like when I call you ‘baby’?”

Jisung opened his eyes, glaring at Minho. “You know that’s not it,” He closed his eyes again as he added on, “I _really_ like when you call me that. Like, _too_ much, actually.”

“Well then, _baby_ ,” Minho grinned smugly. “Can I kiss you?”

“Y-“ Jisung shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Not yet, you still have a fever.”

Jisung almost got whiplash at how fast Minho’s demeanor changed. “You’re so mean,” He said, pouting.

“You don’t actually think that,” Jisung regained his composure after a moment and tacked on, “Pretty boy.”

It was Minho’s turn to be embarrassed, covering his face with his hands and shifting a bit. “You’re playing dirty,” He practically whined.

“Kinda like how you did?” Minho stayed silent. “That’s what I thought. Now, lay down and cuddle with me so we can go back to sleep,” He laid on his side again.

Minho didn’t protest, laying down next to Jisung and beginning to play with his hair.

-

Unlike last time, Jisung was woken up by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Minho holding the thermometer. “What time is it?”

“Like, 7pm,” Minho answered dismissively. “My fever’s gone.”

Jisung sat up and skeptically grabbed the thermometer, sleepily smiling when he saw it read 98.8°.

Before he could say anything, Minho gently pushed him so he was laying on his back; moving so both of his elbows were on either side of Jisung’s head. He leaned down, stopping when there was an inch between them, looking at Jisung   
expectantly.

Jisung didn’t respond, instead cupping the back of Minho’s neck and tugging him forward. The second their lips touched, Minho melted, putting almost all of his weight on Jisung.

When they separated, Minho moved to bury his face in Jisung’s neck.

Jisung laughed. “How are you shy about this? You literally pinned me to a wall earlier.”

“Shut up,” Minho said, voice muffled. “You’re really cute and kissing you is really nice.”

Jisung laughed shyly. “You too, even if you did lose,” He wrapped his arms around Minho’s back, smiling contently as Minho huffed but otherwise let the silence envelope them.

Until he said, "Awful bold of you to assume I don't consider this a win."

Jisung kicked his leg.

**Author's Note:**

> okay i went back to format this and Holy Heck i cringed So Much im so sorry to anyone that reads this ajdflkga but still thank you for reading!! like i said before this is v v v old so i’m sorry if the characterization is a bit off!!!
> 
> also thank you to india for lowkey editing this for me uwuwu
> 
> also also my skiz tumblr is tojisung if y’all wanna yell at me there OwO


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